Stories of military service and sacrifice

 

We arrived at the entrance of the Australian War Memorial just as a group of teenagers converged ahead of us so we inched our way in to have our bags tagged.

 

View of the Commemorative Area from the
entrance to Hall of Memory; The names of 
nations, including Malaya, are on the walls

I was pleased to see teenagers, young people and school children in the gallery, mostly on a guided group tour for them to gain better insights from their visit.

 

Such a visit to a national war memorial or museum dedicated to those who have died as a result of war, will be a valuable experience when people learn to appreciate the military for their service and sacrifice.

 

For generations who have never experienced the hardship of wars, it is essential for them to look back and learn from history – whether good or bad – so that they can build a better tomorrow for themselves and future generations.

 

Quotation in the lobby of
the Australian War Memorial

On a White wall in the main lobby, I saw a quote by Sergeant Adam Bryan, Royal Australian Air Force Middle East who said, “Lives have been lost, and family members have made sacrifices… It’s a continuing timeline, and it’s important that these stories are told.”  

 

As I explored the galleries in the Australian War Memorial and saw the collection of exhibits for the First World War, Second World War, Cold War, Korean War, the Malayan Emergency, the Indonesian Confrontation among others, a lump started to form in my throat.

 

The galleries are well curated and designed for visitors to have an immersive sound and light experience, complete with low lighting, soundscapes in military schemes along with voices, music and battle noises.

 

While I may not have been through any war, I have heard first-hand experiences and horror stories of the Second World War from our grandmother and my dad who survived the Japanese invasion and occupation.

 

School children on an educational visit in
the Australian War Memorial

My dad was a Nursing Orderly with the Royal Army Medical Corps whose campaign and service abroad covered, “Johore and Singapore.” [Johore is the old spelling for Johor, the southern-most state in peninsula Malaysia, linked to Singapore by a causeway.]

 

Dad’s duties as a medical first responder, was to rescue the injured and provide first-aid before sending them to the hospital. He probably also carried the wounded on stretchers before and after dressing their wounds and sending them to safety.

 

I read from his Discharge Certificate that dad was discharged from his duties from 29 January 1947. In recognition of his service in the War of 1939 to 1945, dad was awarded three medals: The 1939/1945 Star, the Pacific Star and the War Medal.

 

Seen at the exhibit on Stretcher-Bearers

My dad’s medals may pale in comparison to the grand medals displayed in the Hall of Valour gallery but when I looked at those shiny medals, the lump in my throat threatened to choke me. As I walked through the galleries, I realized that I was breathing with my mouth, blowing out puffs of breath to avert tears.

 

At the exhibit on Stretcher-Bearers, I was drawn to read the small White plaque which read (in part) like this:

 

“…stretcher-bearers worked tirelessly to perform first-aid and carry the wounded to aid posts and dressing stations. As non-combatants, the stretcher-bearers from the Australian Army Medical Corps were not armed, but just like any other soldier they faced the dangers of the front line.”

 

Sculpture of a Water Carrier

In another gallery, there was a bronze sculpture by Wallace Anderson (1888 – 1975) of a Water Carrier who was carrying three two-gallon petrol tins of precious water to his comrades. The information plaque explained that:

 

“Water, even more than other essentials, was key to life at Anzac, and for most of the campaign, every drop had to carried to the front lines from reservoirs and wells near the coast.”

 

These brief descriptions echoed what my dad told me about his work in the field and increased my respect for the service and sacrifice of the military, even the non-combatant soldiers.

 

Then a familiar outline of a map I recognized as Johor in then Malaya made me pause to study the names of towns like Muar, Bakri, Batu Pahat and Yong Peng that included my hometown, Johor Bahru. The name for Parit Sulong was in Red bold print, so I had to read the accompanying plaque:

 

Map of Johor in the Australian War Memorial

“Charles Anderson (1897 – 1988) was born in South Africa and came to Australia in 1935. He had been awarded the Military Cross in the First World War. In 1940 he joined the Second AIF and was appointed to command the 2/19^th Battalion in Malaya.

 

During the Japanese advance, the battalion was sent to the Bakri area. Following the heavy casualties, Anderson took command of the brigade and led it in a fighting withdrawal toward Parit Sulong.

 

Cut off and surrounded, for four days he led attacks against roadblocks and enemy positions. Finally trapped and with no possible hope, Anderson ordered that everything be destroyed and survivors form groups to try to get south.

 

Once Singapore fell, Anderson became a prisoner-of-war and later worked on the notorious Burma-Thailand Railway. Afterwards he returned to farming. In 1949, he was elected to federal parliament where he served as the Country Party member for Hume.”

 

Gallery for the Malayan Emergency

Another gallery of interest featured the Malayan Emergency, also known as the Anti-British Liberation War (1948 – 1960).

 

This was a guerrilla war fought in Malaya between communist pro-independence fighters of the Malayan National Liberation Army and the military forces of the Federation of Malaya and Commonwealth (British Empire).

 

The communists fought to win independence for Malaya from the British Empire and to establish a communist state, while the Malayan Federation and Commonwealth forces fought to combat communism and protect British economic and colonial interests.

 

The term “Emergency” was used by the British to characterize the conflict in order to avoid referring to it as a war, because London-based insurers would not pay out in instances of civil wars.  [Credit Reference from: Wikipedia]

 

The Malayan Emergency struck a familiar chord because under the Briggs Plan (named after Harold Briggs), the British forcibly relocated a million civilians into concentration camps dubbed, “New Villages.”

 

The Kuching Stone

Over the years, many of these New Villages have evolved into residential areas so I wanted modern generations to understand the history and origin of the “New Villages.”

 

To do this, I documented a heritage story, “The Legacy of New Villages” in my book, My Johor Stories 3: Proudly Johor, Then and Now, the third and final instalment that completed the trilogy of My Johor Stories books. [MPH Publishing Kuala Lumpur, 2022.]

 

Another exhibit that caught my interest was the Kuching Stone. Inscriptions on the stone were in Chinese characters while the information plaque read like this:

 

“This stone commemorates the opening of the Kuching prisoner-of-war camp on 15 August 1942. The stone bears the name of the camp commander, Colonel Suga Tatisuji, and the command, “Be faithful.”

 

View of the Commemorative Area and the 
Eternal Flame to a backdrop of the 
Hall of Memory

About 3,000 prisoners were held in Kuching, in Sarawak (now Malaysia). They comprised civilian adults and children and military personnel from Australia, Britain, India and Holland.

 

The prisoners had about one cup of rice each, per day and whatever they could buy or steal. They were given no medicine. Many adults died from malnutrition and disease but remarkably, not one child died.

 

We can now regard this stone as a memorial to all who suffered at Kuching.”

 

Outdoors in the Commemorative Area, I read the names of Malaya and Singapore emblazoned on the walls along with the names of the nations in the allied forces and saw the eternal flame that burned to honour the memory of the fallen.

 

Inside the Tomb of the 
Unknown Soldier

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is located in the Hall of Memory, situated at one end of the Commemorative Area. This tomb represents all Australian war dead from World War One and subsequent conflicts. The inscription around the tomb reads:

 

“An unknown Australian soldier killed in the war of 1914 – 1918. Known unto God. He is all of them and he is one of us.”

 

At the opposite end of the Commemorative Area, from an elevated position, I saw the landscaped gardens and roads in the heart of Canberra that led directly to the Parliament House, situated on top of Capital Hill.

 

On our way out from the Commemorative Area, we walked on the upper corridor pass the Roll of Honour, an entire wall covered by bronze panels that listed over 103,000 Australian armed forces members who died in service.

 

Dubbed cloister walls, strings of red poppies decorated these walls where the blooms were placed next to the names in their memory.

 

It was encouraging to see groups of
students and young people being guided
 through the Australian War Memorial

The red poppy is a poignant symbol of remembrance for military personnel who died or suffered in war and conflict. It represents the memory of the fallen, the sacrifice of those who served and acts as a plea for peace.

 

This flower symbolises the blood-red poppies that bloomed across battle-scarred, war-torn European landscapes. In Australia and the Commonwealth, the poppy is worn on the left side, close to the heart on Remembrance Day (November 11).

 

The mood was contemplative as we made our way out of the War Memorial.

 

An experience in this destination certainly brought the reality of war and its consequences alive as I recalled our grandmother’s and my dad’s first-hand experience stories. I watched as more visitors arrived, many of them youths.

 

And I echo the sentiment that indeed, “There are no winners in war.”

 

#MyJohorStoriesTravelogue

#MyJohorStoriesFebruary2026

Gone Six Years

 

Six years has gone by since that January 14 when I spent an unforgettable night keeping vigil by my dad’s bed in Hospital Sultanah Aminah after he had suffered an acute stroke.

 

Some birthday cards that dad received from us

It was the apex of an eventful day which simply started with accompanying dad to consult the specialist who prescribed medicine for shingles that had flared up on his abdomen.

 

I can still remember our last conversation when I received the note from the nurse with the prescription and dad reminded me to ask the pharmacist for the name of the medicine. Dad just wanted to know what drug was prescribed.

 

After all, his vast experience with working in government dispensaries and district health centres had equipped him with the knowledge and application of medicines which he used to prescribe for patients.

 

As dad and I walked toward the pharmacy to collect this prescription, I noticed something was just not right with him and it was then that he suddenly collapsed in my arms.

 

A playful shot of our parents;
taken at 154 Jalan Ngee Heng

Over the next few days our family rallied around to provide dad with the best possible care and attention until he quietly left us in the afternoon of January 17.

 

I was not alone in missing dad because I knew that my mother would also be missing him, maybe even more because they shared a life together long before I came along.

 

So many things seemed to remind me of dad: his empty chair, the place he would sit at the head of the table, his mug and cutlery, and I even missed waking up to that familiar sound of his electric shaver when dad would be shaving in front of the large mirror hung just outside my room door.

 

The first twelve months since dad’s passing was the most difficult for me and when January 2017 arrived, the memories remained fresh and the pain, raw.

 

My dad’s love for the written word was a strong influence in my life. I will never forget the excitement of seeing my first Letter-to-the-Editor published in The New Straits Times newspapers in 1970 and his encouragement to, “Never stop writing.”

 

Some birthday cards to dad from his wife!

Dad helped me fine-tune the draft of my Letter-to-the-Editor that highlighted the plight of midwives based in the districts. At that time, mum and dad worked with the Pusat Kesihatan Kecil or Health Sub-Centre, and were based in Masai for 13 years.

 

Dad had a newspaper subscription because my parents had a habit in reading the daily newspapers but we had to collect it from the news agents because there was no delivery service in that small town.

 

After dad’s retirement, we moved back to Johor Baru. Even as we advanced into the digital age where news was often read online, we kept a newspaper subscription because mum and dad still preferred to read from a hardcopy.

 

It was dad’s habit in reading which started me on reading and enjoying it. Dad had a preference for non-fiction and because I could never resist buying books, the book shelves at home groaned from the weight of our combined collection of books.

 

We still have a newspaper subscription
for mum to read the daily news on hardcopy

While we were school-going kids, dad bought three copies of the hardcover Oxford Pocket Dictionary, one each for his three daughters and showed us how to use this handy book. Mine is quite tattered, a very precious memento because dad taught us never to be lazy to look up the meanings so that we could use words appropriately.

 

I treasure fond memories of the countless games of Scrabble dad played with us, mostly on rainy days, and how he often won because of his superior skills in this word game. It was a bittersweet triumph when we started to win the games but he was always such a good sport to accept defeat gracefully.

 

I will never forget Christmas 2015 and our family staycation at a nearby resort, where we taught dad to play another word game, Bananagram. And at the ripe old age of 93, dad proved his mettle as he won in the very first game played with us.

 

Our Scrabble set with its box taped and mended
after years of family bonding through word games

Since my school days, the thrill of seeing my writing and my name published in print kept me seeking opportunities to write to newspapers and magazines or to participate in competitions that required writing stories or slogans.

 

One of these competitions was from a women’s magazine in 1995 that sought the best original and creative writing in not more than 20 words about the sentiments behind a favourite piece of gold jewellery that offered the top prize of gold fashion accessories worth RM2,000.

 

While sorting through old things in December 2020, I discovered my gold jewellery prize and copies of the contest documents for, My treasured gold pieces and the special sentiments behind it, along with the winning entry which read like this:

 

Bracelets forty years old

Intricately woven solid gold

From seven, three were sold

So to feed us, we are told!

 

The sight of my winning entry brought back a flood of memories and a rush of that exhilarating feeling of seeing my writing in print.

 

A birthday card from mum and dad
with meaningful thoughts and wishes

This piece of simple prose was inspired by mum’s experience with her set of seven solid gold bangles, fondly called Lai Pai Ark (Cantonese for One-Week-Bangles) that mum had bought with her own savings.

 

Mum said that for her wedding, her mother could not afford to present her with a set of gold jewellery, traditionally part of a daughter’s wedding trousseau, so these gold bangles which mum had bought for herself, were particularly precious to her.

 

Then when our family desperately needed money, mum was compelled to pawn three out of her seven bangles and was left with just four of her precious gold bangles.

 

Recently mum presented these four bangles, one each to her three daughters and only daughter-in-law, as mementoes from an early chapter of our parents’ lives.

 

Many years later, when I saw my work published in various sections of the newspapers like the Travel Times, Johor Streets and The Iskandarian, I still felt that same thrill of achievement to read my by-line with my contributions.

 

A card from dad to mum on
their wedding anniversary

In early 2006, I shared with dad a message I received from Ernest Poon, who met dad as a young man on a visit with the Sung family, their mutual friends who were then based in Cameron Highlands.

 

Ernest, who was following my stories in the newspapers, invited me to work on a book project to document the life’s work of Colleen Mavis Redit, a lady missionary from New Zealand who founded the ministry of Christian Missions Charitable Trust (CMCT) in Chennai, India.

 

A member of their International Board of Trustees, he described this ministry as “in the league of the work of Mother Teresa” and while there were many books published about Mother Teresa, there was no comprehensive document on the work of Colleen and CMCT.  

 

Fast-forward to April 2013, when Ernest returned from CMCT’s annual Board of Trustees meeting with a signed copy of the autobiography of Colleen, Realising a Vision through Faith, that I had written about her missionary work in India.

 

Birthday greetings to dad from his middle
daughter and family who live in the UK

When I turned its pages, I had flashbacks of my experiences in India – walking the slums of Chennai with Colleen and interviewing more than 40 people for their stories – and I relished the thought that this was technically my very first published book.

 

I shared my dad’s quiet joy, knowing that this book would be distributed worldwide through the CMCT International Board of Trustees and that all proceeds from book sales would be channelled back to CMCT for their ministry needs.

 

My journey in book writing continued a year after dad’s passing when I felt ready to accept the challenge from Think City Johor Baru to document a collection of my Johor stories as a slice of Johor culture and heritage, and as a tribute to dad.

 

My dad was the inspiration for countless stories including, My mentor, my dad, Going Back to Masai-chusetts, Green Fingers, and Travelling with Dad, published in my 2017 bestseller, My Johor Stories: True Tales, Real People, Rich Heritage and its sequel, My Johor Stories 2: Interesting Places and Inspirational People.*

 

While the global pandemic and lockdown periods pressed the pause button for work to progress less rapidly on the manuscript for Book Three of My Johor Stories, I was grateful for the slower pace which allowed me to do more research as I wrote exclusive stories for this final volume to complete a trilogy.

 

Birthday greetings and drawings to dad
from his grandchildren
(who now have families of their own!)

As the virus compelled us to stay vigilant to protect our families, friends and neighbours, we stayed connected with the use of modern technology and kept abreast with the news from around the world to respond better to the fight against this deadly virus.

 

This was very real because we grieved with friends whose families were infected with the dreaded virus, got very sick and some sadly, did not survive.

 

The lockdown also gave me the opportunity to share exclusive blog posts, some supported by photographs I discovered in dad’s old photo albums. One of my favourite discoveries must be Medals, Discharge Certificate and a Testimonial.

 

Among these exclusive stories was one on the adventurous Zebra in the JB General Hospital, our Family Fun at Istana Gardens, and my Iron Man in India.

 

The past year 2021, was a new experience with the nationwide lockdown, state borders closed and the vaccination drive which kicked off with the electronic registration for mum to receive her first appointment.

 

Mum had her own health issues so it was a new experience for us to manage mum’s health in the New Normal. After receiving her vaccinations, one-by-one, mum suffered and recovered from some side-effects, and is fully vaccinated now.

 

To keep mum safe, we maintained a strictly No Visitors policy so mum got used to staying in touch with family members by video calls and telephone chats. I believe dad would be pleased with the way we are keeping mum safe, secure and comfortable in her advancing age.

 

Echoing this message from a
daughter to her dad

Her grandchildren who are based in Australia and the UK, could call conveniently to let mum see and chat with her great-grandchildren – three girls in Australia and a boy and girl in the UK.

 

Among the precious mementoes I treasure were birthday cards exchanged between mum and dad, and a collection of birthday cards from their children and grandchildren.

 

Time has surely flown since the grandkids wrote/drew their greetings on cards and papers to send to dad on his birthday because now, they have families of their own.

 

This next generation may not have first-hand experience with their great-grandfather but my recollections will give them a glimpse of who he was and how his life had impacted us.

 

For instance, after our joint celebration for mum and dad’s birthdays in 2012, we made a road trip to Ipoh where dad grew up in the Boys Home in Elim Gospel Hall. In 2014, I shared another feature, Daddy Dearest, with more details of his early life.

 

Clearly, I am still missing dad and will keep talking about him because he deserves to be remembered. Six years may have gone by the memories are never gone.

 

*My Johor Stories books are available from MPH bookstores nationwide and online from www.mphonline

Medals, Discharge Certificate and a Testimonial

While sorting through the things in our cupboards recently, I came across three tarnished-looking medals that were kept aside with some yellowed documents that belonged to dad.

Dad [Third from Right] with his JB general
hospital colleagues and a Policeman [Right] 
[1950s when Policemen used to wear shorts!]

Conscious of the aged documents, I gently opened the fragile pages and took time to read them.

I smiled when I recognised the familiar font of a manual typewriter that was used to prepare the Release Testimonial issued to dad by the British General Hospital in Singapore.

The date, 16 January 1947, was hand-written along with the signature of the Officer-in-Charge (OC) at the BGH or British General Hospital.

There was more than one copy of this testimonial. The original was the top-most sheet with carbon copies – typed using carbon paper layered in between each sheet of paper – pinned together by a single long pin on the top left-hand corner.

It occurred to me that this document was more than 70 years old and staplers were probably not invented yet!

Dad's Release Testimonial pinned together 
with carbon copies

As I read on, my interest was piqued by the adjectives used to describe dad’s character and conduct.

The subject of the document was typed in capital letters, centered on top and simply read: RELEASE TESTIMONIAL

On the next line, dad’s name, his Private number and Royal Army Medical Corps, were underscored.

It went on to state his Military Character, which was: EXEMPLARY (In capitals!)

Dad’s testimonial read like this, and I quote the first paragraph:

“He has proved himself to be trustworthy, honest, sober, intelligent and conscientious; a diligent worker, willing and cooperative, has worked a year as Nursing Orderly, in which capacity he has been found to be knowledgeable and tactful, with excellent moral character.”

The next line in the final para read like this: “A straightforward, keen, stable type; good appearance, a non-smoker, good swimmer.”

Dad's Discharge Certificate and a covering note

I paused to digest how this Officer-in-Charge aptly described dad’s character and conduct. Then I read and re-read the document to ponder upon the descriptive adjectives.

I may be biased but I cannot help but agree with the OC that he was spot-on with his analysis of dad’s character and conduct!

A closer examination of the next document, the Discharge Certificate dated 30 March 1950, stated that dad was discharged from duties with effect from 29 January 1947.

His campaign and service abroad covered “Johore (spelling with an “e”) and Singapore.”

The Discharge Certificate and three medals

The Discharge Certificate was signed by the OC and the stamp affixed read as, “Officer-in-Charge, Overseas Record Office Singapore.”

Back then, Malaya and Singapore were one country…

Enclosed with this Discharge Certificate were Awards (three medals) and a document with the descriptions of a list of the medals.

The title printed on this document read: Campaign Stars, Clasps and Medals, instituted in recognition of service in the war of 1939 – 45.

I could match these tarnished old medals awarded to dad in recognition of his service, against this document which helped me better understand each medal. They were:

1] 1939/1945 Star

2] Pacific Star

3] War Medal

A list of medal descriptions
 

During World War Two, dad joined the Royal Army Medical Corps as a Nursing Orderly whose task as a medical first responder, was to rescue injured people and provide first-aid before sending them to the hospital.

Dad felt so fulfilled by this job that upon his discharge from the medical corps, he left Singapore and returned to Ipoh but was on the lookout for a similar job that would provide medical aid.

Not long after that, he saw a recruitment advertisement for Hospital Assistants with the Johor Baru General Hospital and did not hesitate to apply.

Overjoyed with his successful application, dad came to Johor Baru to join the JBGH (now Hospital Sultanah Aminah) as a trainee and qualified as Hospital Assistant (HA).

A rare shot of dad inside the dispensary in
Gelang Patah; This wooden building have
since been demolished.

Dad made JB his home when his career started in the JBGH and under the Health Department, he was later posted to work in various districts in Johor including Gelang Patah and Masai.

Looking back, it was no surprise that my dad and his exemplary work attitude with the Health services so inspired me to write countless stories about dad, his life and work including, My mentor, my dad, Going Back to Masai-chusetts and Travelling with Dad, published in my 2017 bestseller, My Johor Stories: True Tales, Real People, Rich Heritage, and My Johor Stories 2: Interesting Places and Inspirational People.

Note: My Johor Stories series of books are available from MPH bookstores nationwide and online from www.mphonline